The Boy with the Demon Blood
by suicidalunicorn97
Summary: Set in Season 5, right after Lucifer is released from the cage. Sam feels guilty about it, and wants to punish himself. He wants to get rid of the Demon Blood that runs through his veins. Trigger warning for themes of self harm and suicidal thoughts. (I suck at summaries. Just read the damn story.)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! For those of you who follow me, you know that I started school this week. Let me tell you: Hell. I had anxiety the whole first class period and wrote fanfiction instead of an essay. I just haven't had time to get to my laptop to write until now.**

 **I'm doing this instead of showering. You're welcome.**

* * *

This was it. The end. The literal end of the world. And it was all his fault.

Sam Winchester sat on the edge of a bed in a dingy motel room, just staring at his hands. Dean was pacing around the room, freaking out. His brother's panicked voice seemed a million miles away.

 _He was falling...He couldn't breathe..._

"Sam! Sam, what's going on?" Dean was suddenly in front of him, shaking his shoulders.

"What..."

"Shit, you're having a panic attack." Dean sat beside him and rubbed circles on his back, attempting to comfort the hyperventilating hunter. "Breathe, Sammy."

Sam tried to slow his breathing. "My fault." He choked out.

"It was more of a group effort, if that makes you feel any better."

"It's the end of the world, Dean. Lucifer is free."

"It's okay, Sammy. We'll figure it out. We always do."

* * *

"Let's treat this like any other case, okay?"

Sam chuckled darkly. "Okay, so how are we gonna ice the devil?"

"Uhh..."

"Exactly."

"Would you stop it? I'm over here trying to clean up the mess you made, again. The least you could do is keep those kind of thoughts to yourself. Okay Negative Nancy?" Dean snapped.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled. He knew Dean didn't mean to make him feel worse. They were both under a lot of stress. "What's our next move, then?"

Dean sighed. "I say we try to figure out what got us out of that church and onto a place. Something that powerful...and even better, on our side for once? I'll take it."

"Maybe it was Cas."

Dean avoided Sam's gaze. "No."

"How do you know?"

"I...left him at Chuck's place to fight off an Archangel."

Sam felt his stomach drop. Castiel was dead, and it was all his fault. "I'm sorry," He said quietly.

"Don't be."

The brothers jumped as they heard the rustling of wings and a familiar, deep voice.

"Cas!" Sam resisted the urge to hug the angel.

"Son of a bitch. How'd you get out alive?"

"I didn't."

"Care to elaborate?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "I gotta say, you look great for a ghost-angel. Is that even a thing?"

Cas looked fine. Same messy dark hair, dirty trenchcoat, and puzzled blue eyes.

"Something brought me back."

"You too?"

Cas nodded. "I think it was God."

"Wait, you mean THE God? Where was he during the Apocalypse?" Dean scoffed.

"He works in-"

"No." Dean glared. "If you say 'mysterious ways', I am going to lose my shit."

Cas looked confused, but left the sentence incomplete.

"This could be a good thing." Sam said, "I mean, think about it. With God on our side, we could win."

Cas nodded. "Precisely. I will go look for him."

"Wait-"

But it was too late. Cas vanished, typical of the angel to leave without disclosing his plans.

"Well, what now?"

Dean rubbed his temples. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I say we hit the sack and figure it out in the morning."

Sam could agree with that.

* * *

Sam was out cold within minutes of laying down. His dreams were normal - Normal meaning filled with scenes of burning houses and bloody ceilings.

Then he felt a presence next to him. He opened his eyes, and found himself face-to-face with someone he hadn't seen in years. Jess.

"Jessica." He breathed.

"Hey baby, I've missed you." She smiled, her familiar dimples making an appearance. God, how he missed that smile...

"I've missed you too, Jess." Sam wished it wasn't a dream. He would give anything to touch her again.

"We need to talk, Sam." Jess's face grew serious.

This was weird. Usually when he dreamed of Jess, they just cuddled. Or she burned...

"You are Lucifer's vessel."

Ah. There it was. He knew it had to be a nightmare. "Right." He laughed bitterly.

"I'm serious." Suddenly Jess's beautiful face morphed into that of a man.

Sam yelped and fell out of bed.

The man laughed. "Why do I always get that response?"

"Who are you?" Sam glanced over at Dean's still form in the other bed, sound asleep.

"Your people have many names for me. Satan, Devil...my name is Lucifer though. I'm an angel." The man paused. " I say 'your people', Sam, but I really mean humans. You're not one of them, are you?"

"Shut up." Sam clenched his jaw.

"Ooh, sensitive subject? Well it's true. You see, you're special. You're my true vessel."

"No. I-I can't be."

"'fraid it's true. Any chance you'll make it easy for me, tell me where you are? Castiel's artwork on your ribs makes it harder to locate you, unfortunately."

"Go to Hell."

The man - Satan(?) snorted. "The end game is to rule Heaven and Hell. I'll be seeing you soon, Sammy."

* * *

Sam woke up in a cold sweat. He jolted upright, eyes roaming the room to make sure Lucifer was gone.

Dean groaned and stretched. "What is it, Sammy? Nightmare?"

"You could say that."

"Hey," Dean dragged himself over to Sam's bed. "What's got you so freaked out? Clowns or midgets?" He joked, trying to get a smile out of his brother.

It didn't work. "Satan."

"Sorry, Kiddo. That's gonna be a pretty common nightmare for the both of us now."

"You don't understand. He told me...He told me I'm his vessel. He's trying to find us." Sam swallowed hard.

Dean looked scared, but Sam could tell he was trying to hide it. "It was just a dream."

"I'm afraid not." Castiel appeared in the middle of the room. "Lucifer has found a temporary vessel. But Sam is the only person strong enough to permanently house his true form. On account of the demon blood."

Sam's worst fears were confirmed. He would never say yes.

* * *

After Castiel had gone, and Dean returned to bed, Sam quietly locked himself in the bathroom. The angels were smart and manipulative. He knew it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found a way to get him to say yes.

But not if he was dead.

He stared at the gun in his hand.

 _Here goes nothing._

* * *

 **Sooooo, should I continue it? Leave me a review. Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

Sam's hands were shaking as he lifted the gun to his mouth. Was he really about to take his own life? Not that it hadn't crossed his mind before...After Jessica he was pretty messed up. But he'd channeled that reckless, suicidal energy towards revenge. He couldn't leave Dean like that.

But now it would be more selfish to live. He couldn't risk the lives of millions of people. Dean would understand.

 _Dean._ Sam sighed and lowered the gun. He needed to write a note. Some sort of explanation. He didn't want his brother to make another deal.

He left the revolver on the counter and stepped out of the bathroom. His trembling hands held his cell phone above the paper for light as he wrote his last goodbye. Dean was a light sleeper; he couldn't risk turning on the lamp.

 ** _Dean,_**

 ** _I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. But you've gotta understand that this is the way it has to be. Lucifer can't possess me if I'm dead. Please don't try to bring me back._**

 ** _-Sam_**

 ** _PS: I know I've never said this enough, but I love you._**

Sam folded the note and placed it on Dean's nightstand. He started towards the bathroom, taking one last look at his brother.

But then the floor creaked.

"S'mmy?" Dean mumbled.

Sam swore internally. "Yeah, just going to the bathroom."

"You were just in there, everything okay?" Dean rolled over, and noticed the folded piece of paper. "What's this?"

"Yeah, yeah! Everything is fine." Sam tried to snatch the suicide note before Dean could, but it was too late. Dean was already turning on the lamp and beginning to read.

"Sam, what the hell is this?" All remnants of sleepiness had left his face.

 _Dammit._

"It's uh, nothing. It's nothing." Sam wrestled the note from his brother, but his brother had already read it.

In a display of force usually directed at whatever they were hunting, Dean pinned him to the bed. "What the fuck?" He growled. "You were going to kill yourself? Leave me?"

Beneath the fury, Sam could see the fear and heartbreak. "I'm sorry, I just-can we talk about this?"

"We are."

"Can you-you know...off-I can't breathe."

Dean maintained his glare but climbed off, allowing Sam to sit up.

"Just let me expl-"

"There's nothing _to_ explain. You were checking out!"

"Listen, Satan can't wear me to the prom unless I'm alive."

"No. Not an option. He's an angel, Sam! He could just bring you back."

"Then why are you so upset?"

Dean's lip quivered, and he inhaled sharply, trying to regain his composure. "Really?"

"Yeah, what's the big deal? If you're right, he brings me back, and I keep telling him to stick it. If you're wrong, I die, and the apocalypse is stopped. Win-win."

" _What's the big deal?_ You're asking me to just stand by while my little brother fucking commits suicide! I can't do that! Maybe you've forgotten, but I went to Hell for you. I brought you back, and dammit, I'd do it again. I can't lose you!"

Dean's voice broke on the last word, and Sam looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry." He said quietly.

"Sorry ain't gonna cut it. You're on suicide watch now. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"I won't try it again." Sam said, being honest. "I...I thought you'd understand that it's for the greater good, but-"

"No, Sam. There's gotta be another way, and we _will_ find it."

"Okay." Sam agreed. Dean was pacing around the room, looking like he was gonna be sick. "Calm down, Dee."

"Don't tell me to calm down! I can't decide whether I wanna hug you, or punch your damn lights out."

Sam smiled weakly. "Maybe both?"

* * *

 **Sorry this chapter is short. I'm headed to my little sister's dance recital. Hopefully I'll be able to update later. What do you think so far? Pleaaaase leave a review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back!**

 **nightmarehunter676: *HUGS* Be kind to yourself, I like you. Hope you're doing better now.**

 **castielholmeshasthephonebox: I LOVE YOUR FRICKIN NAME.**

 **Everyone who's reviewed and liked: THANK YOU SO MUCH IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME.**

* * *

 _You're not one of them, are you?_

Lucifer's words wouldn't stop echoing in Sam's head. They hurt more than he cared to admit. He'd never felt normal. He always felt out of place, like he didn't belong. Different.

 _Not just different. A freak._

That internal voice was his own. He kept trying to push it down, but the feeling remained.

"-you even listening to me?"

"Sorry, what?" He hadn't even realized Dean was talking. They'd been on the road for about an hour, heading to Bobby's house. They could definitely use his help.

Dean sighed. "Are you okay, man?"

"Sure."

Dean looked like he was about to say something, but was interrupted by a siren blip; red and blue lights flashing behind them.

"Dammit! I was only going like ten over!"

Sam chuckled. "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Dean whipped out a fake driver's license just as the cop approached the rolled down window. "What can I do you for, Officer?"

"I need you boys to step out of the car for a moment, please."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. This was suspicious...Hiding their weapons up their sleeves, the brothers stepped out of the Impala.

"Christo."

With this one word, the cop flinched, and his eyes flickered to black for a split second. That was all they needed.

Dean's revolver was basically useless, so Sam ran to his side with the Demon blade. He plunged it into the creature's chest and watched it fall to the ground.

He stared at the blood dripping off the knife; demon blood. His addiction...God, he wanted it so bad...

"Sammy, you're bleeding."

"Huh?" Sam looked at his own arm. There was a tear in his jacket, and a line of crimson dripping down his sleeve. Shocked, he glanced at the demon. In its hand was a small dagger.

"Hm, I didn't even feel it."

"Weird. Come on, get in the car. We'll patch you up."

As Sam stared at his own blood trickling down, and felt a weird rush. He'd been hurt before, what was this?

 _This was the demon blood leaving his body._

And he suddenly had an idea.

* * *

 **Sorry about the short chapter. My little sister is begging me to watch Leverage with her. Anyway, if any of you are struggling with self harm or suicidal thoughts, please seek help! Each one of you is so special and so loved. The world can't lose another hunter. Always keep fighting.**


	4. Chapter 4

Halfway to Bobby's house, they stopped at a gas station to refuel.

"Hey, I'm gonna use the restroom while we're stopped."

"Wait til I'm done filling up the tank. I'll come with you."

Sam laughed. "Dude, that's just weird. I'm not gonna try anything."

Dean glared. "Okay, but if you're more than five minutes, I'm comin' in."

Sam shook his head. Suicide watch was fucking annoying.

* * *

He made sure the door was locked before pulling out the demon blade. He'd cut himself before, when making protective sigils and performing various rituals. But this was different.

He didn't want Dean to become suspicious of new cuts, so he decided to simply re-open the cut that the demon had made.

He pressed the tip of the knife into the laceration. It hurt like a bitch, and didn't take much for it to start bleeding again. As he watched his own blood start dripping into the sink, he felt a weird, euphoric rush...he felt like laughing.

He put more pressure on the blade, making the wound even deeper. The pain was brief, quickly replaced by the high. His blood was gushing now, splashing into the white sink basin. It was beautiful.

The more he bled, the more human he became.

"Hey, you almost done in there?" Dean was knocking at the door. Sam could hear the concern in his brother's voice.

"Be out in a minute."

"Hurry, I've gotta go too."

Sam could tell that Dean was relieved he was still alive. He felt slightly irritated. He wasn't going to kill himself.

He quickly replaced the bandage and cleaned up the sink, making sure all the evidence was gone.

He opened the door just as Dean was raising his fist to knock again. "Finally!"

Sam rolled his eyes and headed to the car. Once inside, he noticed that the blood was seeping through his jacket, slowly staining it red...he'd have to take care of it later.

* * *

"Hey, Dean?" They were almost to Bobby's house, and Sam felt like shit. The adrenaline had worn off a long time ago, and his arm was killing him. He was entertaining thoughts of killing himself again, but more than anything he wanted to bleed. He wanted to bleed more. Bleed out entirely. Get rid of the demon blood...

"Yeah?" Dean glanced sideways at his brother. "You look a little pale. You alright?"

"I'm fine." Sam lied. "Hey, when we get there...could you not tell Bobby about...you know?"

"About what, how you're supposed to be Lucifer's meat suit? Or how you tried to fuckin' shoot yourself?"

"The latter." Sam said quietly.

"Suicide watch isn't gonna be very effective if Bobby doesn't know about it. He has to know he can't leave you alone with the guns. Or knives, for that matter."

Sam felt his anxiety start to climb. No knives? He needed them. He needed to bleed...

He tried to stay calm. "Please, Dee?"

Dean sighed, and softened at the use of his little brother's nickname. "Fine. But if you try anything-"

"You can lock me in the panic room."

Dean nodded his approval. "Agreed."

* * *

They reached Bobby's house, and walked right in. This place was their second home. (The impala being their first)

"Bobby!" Dean called out.

"I'm comin'" The older man hollered from another room.

"You're getting slow in your old age. If we'd been monsters you'd be dead already." Dean teased, but they all knew that Bobby's house was the most protected place they'd ever seen.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just glad you two are alive." Bobby hugged Dean first, then Sam.

Sam winced a little as Bobby brushed up against his injured arm.

"What happened to you?" Bobby noticed the blood on Sam's jacket. "You're bleedin'."

Dean looked surprised, noticing it for the first time. "It's still bleeding? Geez, that was hours ago. It wasn't even that bad."

Sam tried not to look nervous. "It must have opened up when I was getting my bag out of the car. It's nothing."

"We got jumped by a demon pretending to be a cop," Dean explained.

"Well, sit down. Let's take care of it."

"No, no. I'm fine, it's nothing." Sam knew he sounded suspicious the moment the words left his lips.

Bobby's eyes narrowed, and he pushed Sam into a chair. "Stay." He quickly returned quickly, carrying a small first aid kit. "Alright, off with the jacket."

Sam hesitated.

"Come on, quit bein' a baby and let me see it."

Sam reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, revealing the seeping wound on his forearm.

Dean's eyes widened. "It wasn't that bad before, I swear."

"This definitely needs stitches." Bobby agreed.

"I can't believe I missed it."

Guilt was written all over Dean's face, and Sam knew he was blaming himself. He thought he just hadn't looked at it good enough. Sam knew how his big brother's mind worked. He was perpetually stuck in "protect Sammy" mode.

He would have to be more careful next time. If Dean found out that he was intentionally harming himself...

No. Dean would never find out. It would break him.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day was spent doing research on how to kill the devil. Everything Sam read about the Apocalypse made him want to kill himself even more. A lot of people were going to die, no matter what choice he made. This was all his fault.

"Hey, you doing alright?" Dean asked from across the table. All three men were seated in Bobby's kitchen, looking through different books of lore.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You've been on the same page for like twenty minutes."

Sam shook his head. "Maybe I need a break." He stood, and left the room. Luckily, neither Dean nor Bobby followed him.

He walked out the back door, breathing in the fresh air. It was hard to believe that the peaceful outdoors could soon turn, bringing Biblical plagues and a sea of death.

He strolled a few feet away from Bobby's property and looked around to make sure he was alone. When he was certain no one had tailed him, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the demon blade. He could use any knife, but this seemed to be the most fitting. He was killing the demon within himself.

Sam lifted his shirt, and made a small cut along his ribs. The crimson line of blood was so beautiful...He needed more. He hissed as the sharp blade sliced through the sensitive skin of his abdomen. More blood. More demon blood.

He made three more shallow cuts on his stomach and side. He felt much better now.

He took some gauze out of his pocket. He'd been prepared. Time to patch himself up. Couldn't let the wounds bleed through his shirt. No one could know.

* * *

"I'm gonna go check on Sam." Dean stood.

"You gonna tell me what's goin' on with him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I may be old, but I ain't stupid. You been watchin' him like a hawk ever since you got here."

Dean avoided Bobby's gaze. "I'm just making sure he's okay."

"Why wouldn't he be?"

Dean laughed. "Well, let's see: He started the Apocalypse, and Lucifer wants to wear him to prom. That's a little stressful."

Bobby watched him carefully. "Yeah, but there's somethin' goin' on that you're not tellin' me."

Dean swallowed hard. "I promised I wouldn't. I'm sorry, Bobby."

The older man glared. "You boys are idjits. Why won't you let anyone help you?"

Dean sighed. "Fine. Just don't tell him I told you."

"Told him what?" Sam walked in, and folded his arms across his chest defensively. "You told him?!"

"No!" Dean looked guilty.

"Will someone please tell me what's goin' on?" Bobby resisted the urge to smack both boys upside the head.

"Fine." Sam scowled at his brother. "It's not that big of a deal anyway. Bobby might even agree with me."

"I'm listenin'."

"I have this idea. Lucifer can't possess me if I'm dead. All you gotta do is kill me. And if you can't, I'll do it myself."

Bobby stared at Sam in shocked silence.

"That's not all." Dean mumbled.

"Shut up."

"He tried to-"

"I said shut up!"

"You shut up! No one's dyin', alright? Haven't we lost enough people in this fight? Now let your brother talk. Dean, he tried to what?"

"He tried to kill himself." Dean's voice wavered. "He wrote me a note and everything. I found a handgun in the bathroom. He was gonna..." Dean couldn't finish the sentence, but he didn't need to.

"Sam..."

Sam was staring at the floor. He couldn't look Bobby in the eye. He couldn't face the man who had been like a father to him. He couldn't face him now that Bobby knew he was suicidal. They were gonna lock him in the panic room for sure...

"Sam, you're not dyin'. You hear me?" Bobby's voice was somber.

"Yes, sir." Sam whispered.

He was surprised when Bobby wrapped his arms around him in a hug. It only lasted for a couple seconds, but there was a lot of emotion behind it.

"No one's dyin', idjit."


	6. Chapter 6

**Fair warning, this chapter sucks. I'm drowning in homework and depression, and my writing skills have suffered accordingly. My parents are going out of town for a while, and I'll be in charge of my FIVE younger siblings for a week. The youngest is 6 years old. It should be an interesting week. Wish me luck. Thanks for your continued support.**

* * *

*two months later*

Weeks had passed and they weren't any closer to finding a way to defeat Lucifer. At least Sam was off suicide watch. He had worked hard to convince Dean and Bobby that he was alright, and it seemed to have worked. But the truth was that Sam was far from okay.

Cutting himself had become a daily habit. He couldn't live without it. He was meticulous, always sure to clean up any blood. He only cut his thighs and torso, ensuring that Dean would never see.

He thought his secret was safe...until everything fell apart.

It should have been a routine hunt. Nothing they hadn't faced before; low level demon. Sam thought he was over his craving for demon blood. It hadn't crossed his mind for a while.

But as soon as he plunged the knife into that black-eyed bitch's heart, he felt the familiar thirst.

Sensing his sudden loss of focus, the demon let out an otherworldly shriek and wrenched the blade from her chest, slashing at Sam in her final display of rage.

He jumped back, but the blade sliced into his thigh, leaving a large gash. Blood started to flow, and Sam fell to the ground, putting pressure on the wound.

"Sammy!" Dean cried out and dropped to his knees beside his brother.

"It's nothing. Had worse." Sam grunted.

"Come on, let's get you to the car." Dean helped him up, and they limped to the Impala. "Keep pressure on that." Dean ordered as he sped to the motel where they were staying.

Once they arrived, Sam leaned on Dean for support, staggering into the room. He cringed as Dean gingerly eased him onto the bed.

"Alright, pants off. Let's stitch you up." Dean reached into his bag for the first aid kit.

Sam hesitated. Once Dean rinsed the blood off, he would see all the cuts...some of them he could probably brush off as hunting scars, but most of them were painfully obvious.

"It's okay, I'll do it myself." Sam tried to stand, but collapsed into Dean's arms.

"Woah, there. Where do you think you're going?"

"Bathroom. Shower." Sam said, clenching his jaw against the pain.

"Uh, no you're not. You'll bleed out, Sam. Sit down and let me take care of you, dammit."

Too exhausted to argue, Sam started tugging off his jeans while Dean got some water and cloths ready. He hissed as the rough fabric brushed against his mutilated skin.

Dean was at his side in an instant. "You okay?"

"I'll live."

Dean helped him get the pants the rest of the way off and began to clean the area around the wound to see it better.

Sam braced himself for Dean's inevitable explosion when he saw the self harm.

"Sam...?"

And just like that, his secret was out.

* * *

"Sammy, what happened to you?" As soon as the words left his lips, a look of realization crossed Dean's face. He stared at the many cuts surrounding the demon's gash, and the numerous wounds on Sam's other thigh, in various stages of healing.

"I don't wanna talk about it." Sam said softly.

To his surprise, Dean didn't push it. He simply resumed cleaning the blood from Sam's thigh. He watched as his brother patched him up in silence, recognizing the familiar set of Dean's jaw. He was angry.

He finished stitching Sam up and tossed him a pair of sweatpants.

Gingerly tugging them on, Sam said, "I'm sorry."

Dean looked up, and Sam noticed his eyes. Sure, there was anger. But there was also fear and heartbreak. Much like when he had discovered Sam's suicide note.

"Why, Sammy?" Dean's voice broke, and Sam looked down, avoiding his gaze.

"It makes me feel more human. You wouldn't understand."

"This is about the goddamn demon blood, isn't it?" Dean cursed. "Listen to me: Making yourself bleed isn't gonna make you more human. That's human blood you're spilling too. You're not some monster we need to take down, Sammy! You're my pain in the ass little brother, and it's my job to take care of you. I thought you were okay... I failed...I fucking failed, and now you're killing yourself..."

To his horror, Sam realized that his older brother was actually _crying._

"Dee, it's okay...I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Instead of replying, Dean pulled him into a hug. Once the shock wore off, Sam hugged back. They didn't hug very often; they weren't a touchy family. But this embrace conveyed all the words Dean couldn't say.

 _I'm here for you._

 _I love you._

 _It's gonna be okay._


	7. (not really a chapter)

**(** ** _this is not a chapter)_**

 **Dear Lord, save me from these children...**


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